I missed Hannah Gamble read ( !, ?, % ) at Parnassus the other day. I am every fiber in every rug being spilled on.
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That other anthology was dishearteningly ungood ( lacking in good ): the poetry within ( as whole, all as one unit, which may be unfair ) just limited in range/expanding language/trajectory of poem to untired zones ( where's the zest in the thing ) , and voice/eccentric individuality.
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Listened to extinct Dewey Decibel in a lurching breath carpod in the snow-hail-wet nowville toward used book mecca Mckay: they lemme have more Ezra, and James Dickey's The Eye-Beaters, Blood, Victory, Madness, Buckhead and Mercy.
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Readings in Nashville, next ones:
Vanderbilt's Poetry Corner: 1/24 Kate Buckley
Vanderbilt's Visiting Writers Series: 2/14 Tracy Smith
